


burial

by bellmare



Category: Kingdom Hearts
Genre: Backstory, Community: kh_drabble, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-23
Updated: 2012-08-23
Packaged: 2017-11-12 17:22:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 559
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/493783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellmare/pseuds/bellmare
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The organisation, he realised, was simply a coping mechanism to ensure that they did not lose themselves even more than they already had.</p>
            </blockquote>





	burial

Acclimatising with their newfound second existence is harder than any of them would have thought.

 

Xehanort stalks through the empty alleyways of the Dark City, ignoring the sporadic downpours; they see the light of paranoia spark briefly in his eyes when he launches into feverish tirades and wild theories about the nature of Darkness: Darkness which seems to have turned its back on him, after he willingly submitted himself to it. Whilst he takes in the world around him with the wide-eyed wonder of a child starved of knowledge, ironically enough, the subject of memories seems to have been forgotten altogether; he no longer bothers with trying to recall a past which remains sealed away, a past which has fled even further out of his grasp.

 

The only ones who have the patience to keep up with his increasingly speculative discourses are Even and Ienzo; even so, the older scientist is content to merely observe his environment, whilst the boy wanders solemnly through the shadowed streets seemingly without purpose, as though seeking to flee the monotony of his surroundings, flitting silently through the avenues like a forlorn waif.

 

Aeleus is constantly vigilant, and ever-wary; alongside Dilan, he is the most practical, and the two of them methodically attempt to find meaning in the world of spectres they find themselves in, ignoring the ruminations of their companions. They are both content to ensure that they are well-prepared for every eventuality which can possibly befall them, be it hollow-eyed Shadows, or jag-jawed Heartless, all hungering for what they do not have.

 

Amidst it all, Braig is the only one who goes to the trouble of keeping up a semblance of normality; he does not bother with acting like they are constantly under threat of losing their hearts yet again, and stays true to form, as nonchalant and lackadaisical as ever, deriving satisfaction from the simple pleasures of annoying the living daylights out of Even, teasing Ienzo, and pretending to listen to what Xehanort has to say.

 

They have been trapped in this inverse realm, so far removed from the Radiant Garden, for goodness-only-knew-how-long. It is during a rare moment of lucidity that Xehanort stops rambling like a deranged lunatic long enough to allow himself a moment to remember the past. In an attempt to distance themselves from the lives they left behind, he proposes the idea of reinvention, of metamorphosis; reluctantly, the rest of the apprentices agree, and they adopt new names, discarding their old ones like snakes shedding their skins. Later, Ienzo brings up numbers, and after much deliberation, they incorporate digits into their titles. Soon after, ludicrous appellations follow but when Braig puts his foot down he is outvoted, five-to-one. In response to that, he spends most of the remaining afternoon inventing new nicknames for his companions, incessantly making fun of their love for all things convoluted and complicated despite the fact that deep down he understands there is method to their madness.

 

Even now, almost a full decade after they first found themselves in the dark un-world, Xigbar is amused to note that this tradition has continued, long after it has lost its significance.

 

“Call it burying your past self,” he blithely informs Luxord, clapping the new recruit on the shoulder. “Like dumping that first shovelful of earth onto your grave. It’s the first step to letting go.”

**Author's Note:**

> For the kh_drabble community on Livejournal. Originally written in 2010.


End file.
